And so it begins again
by midnightmoonlightdream
Summary: An Embry imprint story.


I watched the trees from the car window as we headed back towards what would be my new home for the summer. It was amazing how different Washington already was from my old home. Where I was from, there wasn't much scenery. Tall, green trees seemed to surround everything in this new place. The only trees I was used to seeing were palm trees and those were probably just for decoration. It was definitely strange going from such a bustling place to somewhere so quiet and green.

I was from Costa Mesa, California, in the middle of practically everything California was known for. A twenty minute or so drive could get you to Disneyland, Knotts Berry Farm, or one of SoCal's famous beaches (such as Huntington Beach). In Costa Mesa, the world around you was relaxed, but energetic. Everyone was doing something all the time. Whether they were heading over to Huntington Beach to catch some waves or just going to see a movie, people were always doing something.

I kind of liked the contrast, though. Sometimes it was nice to just stop and appreciate the beauty of the world around you. I just wished that could be done without all the coldness. Everywhere in Washington, or so it seemed to be, was freezing cold. Just the day before I visited the La Push beach, eager to see the beach closest to where I would be living. As beautiful as it was, I was disappointed. Sure it was more scenic than Huntington Beach, but it was also a lot colder! I was used to nice warm sand beneath my feet and chilly, but not too cold, ocean water. Not to mention the near perfect weather of the beach. Everything about La Push was freezing! Or maybe it was just my general intolerance to the cold (I swear I can never stay warm).

I still liked the beach, but I don't think that had to do with the scenery. That probably had to do with exceptionally cute and very nice boy I met there. His name was Embry and he lived on the Quileute reservation nearby. I'd gotten myself lost on the beach that day and he'd kindly helped me find my car. It took a couple hours to locate it (mostly because we got lost in our conversation multiple times), but I couldn't have found it without him. After we found my car, he nervously suggested we meet up again the next day around 4. I certainly had no objections. First full day in Washington and I already had a friend (possibly more in the future?). It was nice to know as I'd been worried about making new friends.

Pulling myself out of my thoughts, I focused on the window again. It appeared as if we were nearly home. I would be calling Forks, Washington home from now on. At least, as long as I was attending college in Washington. Bringing up the pictures I'd saved of Forks on my laptop I was once again floored by the drastic contrast between Forks and Santa Ana. All the buildings were so small and cute! They all seemed to be mom and pop shops with no big chains for miles. It was really weird seeing such a cutesy little town. I mean, they didn't even have a Starbucks. Suddenly, I was less excited about this decision to move to Forks with my aunt. I was used to the busy city life where there was always tons to do. What was I going to do in such a small city? I hadn't had time to think about it the day before. I mean, I'd just gotten in from California and my aunt had decided to have us stay in a hotel for the first day.

I watched, amazed, as we finally pulled up to a very small house outside of Forks on lots and lots of green grass. Aunt Bonnie got out and opened the passenger door for me. Soon as I got out, she ushered me closer to the house to get a closer look. "Isn't it amazing? We just fell in love with it the first time we saw it."

I was speechless and not really in a good way. Had my aunt lost her freaking mind? It was so small and compact and beyond plain. The house was some kind of large mobile home or something which made it uber small. Especially to someone used to living in a big house. It was white with an ugly green trim and a makeshift looking wooden porch thing with wooden steps. Some small houses were cute and some were just downright pathetically tiny. I designated the house as the latter.

"What do you think?" Bonnie asked, green eyes shining with pride.

"It's adorable," I offered, forcing a smile on my face. "I can see why you like it so much."

I was actually a pretty good liar. At least good enough to fool my aunt because she looked pleased with my answer. I figured I would force myself to like it. Sure it was a million times smaller than the beautiful five bedroom house I'd lived in back in Costa Mesa with a lot more greenery and a lot fewer things to do, but it was still…clean. I hoped.

Smiling even wider, Bonnie led me into the tiny house.

"We'll get your bags and stuff in a few minutes," she told me, taking me into the main hallway. "First I want to give you the grand tour of the house. Just before my new hubby gets home. I can't wait for you to meet him! You'll love him."

I couldn't remember the last time my aunt was so happy. She'd always been such a moody person so to see her so it was nice to see her so cheerful and upbeat. If she was truly that enthralled with her new life, then I would try to feel that way too. Besides I'd had it so easy for too long. Maybe it would be good for me to learn to adapt to new situations.

I found myself repeating those words over and over under my breath as we toured the house. During the five minute tour (it only took about five minutes to see the entire house, save my room), I found the house was just as small inside as it was outside. It would take some serious adjusting, but I figured I could learn to live with it.

"And now I'll show you your room. I hope you like it," my aunt continued.

I nearly gasped when she opened the door. No, it wasn't big, but I liked it anyway. The small room was actually cute and cozy done in lilac and navy, my two favorite colors. A twin sized bed rested against the wall with a window overlooking the green grass surrounding the home. My keyboard sat on the other end next to a small, barren computer desk (a desk where I could put my laptop). I was speechless. My aunt had gone to such great lengths to make my room feel like home. It was amazing how thoughtful she was.

"I hope you like it," she said, smiling hopefully. "Your new uncle and I worked three days straight painting this."

"I love it," I breathed, turning around to hug my aunt. "Thank you!"

"I'm glad you like it," she beamed brightly.

Turning around, my aunt left the room and headed out to the car to grab the rest of my bags (I'd grabbed a couple before I'd entered the house). While she retrieved those bags, I set to decorating my room. I still had a few hours until I was supposed to meet up with that Embry guy anyway.

*

A few hours later, I was ready to head out to La Push. It had taken forever to get ready (I wasn't sure what people in Washington wore and really didn't feel like standing out), but I was finally ready. After much deliberation, I'd just pulled on a simple purple long-sleeved shirt and jeans. It was so simple that I wondered why I took so long to get ready in the first place. It took longer to pick out an outfit than it did to drive there (conveniently enough, La Push was only like five or ten minutes away).

Once there, I parked in a place I was sure I would remember (I took pictures of the surrounding area just in case). Tossing my golden blond hair over my shoulder, I headed onto the beach. I was a few minutes early, but the guy from the day before was standing just where he'd said he would.

"You've had an entire day now. Do you remember me?" he asked, a friendly grin plastered on his face.

Confusion swept over my face. Remember him? Did he have me confused with someone else? I'd just met him yesterday. What the heck was he talking about? I was kind of really confused.

"Huh?" I asked, looking at him cautiously.

He sighed and shook his head. "I see California wiped away all your early memories, Kaya. Seeing as you don't even remember your old childhood playmate."

"Playmate?" I repeated slowly.

And then it dawned on me. I'd almost (well, actually, I had forgotten) about my life before California. I'd actually lived near La Push before, back when I was five or six. My dad was a full blooded Quileute, an active member of the tribe up until he married my mother. She was a blond haired blue eyed California girl on a research trip with her anthropologist father who was compiling Quileute legends and stories for his work. According to my mom, they spent as much time together as they could while her father was on the research trip and kept in contact through college.  
After college, she told me how she moved up to Washington to marry my dad (who had just finished college himself at some university in Washington). I guess they lived there until several years after both me and my sister were born. My dad got an excellent job offer in Costa Mesa with much better pay and so we moved when I was about five. It was so long ago, though, that I barely remembered anything from my days in Washington.

Wrapping my arms around the boy in front of me, I hugged him.

"I remember you know," I said, blue eyes widening in recognition. "But you look so different!"

"You do too," he pointed out. "Most people look different at nineteen than they did at five. "

"Yeah, yeah," I muttered, swatting him playfully on the shoulder (which, by the way, was about level with my head. And I thought I was tall at 5'7 and ½!)

I'd seen him after the age of five. For the first seven years of California life, we'd made frequent summer trips up to Washington. But that had all changed the year my mother got the promotion. After several years at the same job, she got a huge promotion. With a higher income came less vacation time and thus the visits stopped.

"So why didn't you mention this yesterday?" I asked, eyes focusing in on his face.

"I wanted to see if you would remember on your own," he shrugged, a good natured smile on his face.

I was amazed he was so unfazed by it. He didn't even seem the tiniest bit annoyed. Instead of irritation showing on his face, there was a sweet, almost loving look. Not only was my old playmate a lot taller (and more attractive, might I add) but he was more laid back too (which I didn't know was possible since he'd always been super chill)

"I'm sorry I didn't, but it's just been so long!"

"Looks like we have a lot of catching up to do then," he said, motioning for me to follow him.

Eager to talk with my old friend again, I followed after him.


End file.
